With the dispute resolved and their egos soothed, Rimmer and Lister were soon back in full insult-slinging mode. Sometimes it was a just short burst of infuriation over possessions and other times they had hour-long marathons. Whichever it was, Lister thoroughly enjoyed them and the twins wriggled with encouragement whenever he was winning. Other than these matches, the days went by uneventfully. Lister wallowed in Rimmer's bunk and watched TV, loathing any movement what with his eight pound luggage. Holly pondered how to get back to Earth. Rimmer hustled the skutters around for a private project known only as 'Operation: Lister', which Lister guessed was about the caesarean they would have to perform. The Cat avoided TV at all costs and made more baby clothes. Talkie Toaster and Kryten lay in pieces waiting to be rescued. It was the eighth month. The twins weighed about 4 pounds each by now and each day made Rimmer more and more nervous. Even Lister was becoming impatient from waiting for the inevitable. He trailed a finger from his navel to his chest in boredom during a programme about Fiji, which he was only semi-interested in. It was just yet another way to pass the time. When the babies are born I won't even remember what spare time is, he thought to himself. "Me drinking will have to stop for years!" he exclaimed. "I can't rely on the skutters or the Cat to watch them while I'm drunk. If they have an accident and I'm too pissed to help them..." He trailed off. Rimmer's face blipped onto the screen. "Good news Listy, the skutters have finally gotten the hang of this caesarean business. You won't have to go through the fun of giving birth after all." Lister breathed a sigh of relief. "Where would they have come out otherwise?"
"You really want to know?"
"No."
"Well I'll tell you if you keep insisting on it," Rimmer smiled wickedly. Lister closed his eyes and prayed not to hear any words along the lines of 'anus'. "The navel. Ha, had you really worried there, didn't I?"
"The belly button? Geez, Rimmer! I was nearly shittin' meself."
"Or at the very least, hoping you wouldn't have to in a month's time," Rimmer chuckled. Lister was about to throw something Rimmer's way when there was a strange sensation and he felt his T-shirt become wet. "Me smegging waters have broken!"
"Are you absolutely sure?"
"Well it's not very often me belly button leaks!" He sat down as pain shook his whole body. "Holly!!!" Rimmer squeaked.
"Alright dudes?" she said as her head appeared on the other wall. Rimmer pointed at Lister. "Already? Well that's a bugger. I had a bet going with the toaster they'd be at least 3 days late. But as he's dead I suppose I automatically win anyway."
Rimmer tapped his unseen foot impatiently, "Holly..." She nodded and rallied the skutters to the medibay. "Think you can walk to the medibay, Dave?" One look told Rimmer that the answer was most definitely "no chance you big fat smeghead". But to his surprise, Lister staggered to his feet anyway and made the painstaking journey to the medibay. There, he sunk down onto the skutter-height bed that was prepared. "You sure they know what they're doing?" Lister puffed between each contraction. For some strange reason their pace had quickened and were only three minutes apart. "'Course they do," Rimmer lied. He still had no clue how the skutters were going to lift the babies out, or even clean them up. They could cut the umbilical cord after a few weeks practice with strings of chipolata sausages. They could open Lister up and use the lasers to seal him up again. Rimmer was confident that there wouldn't even be a scar. But as much as it sickened him to admit it - they needed the Cat. So while Rimmer coached Lister's breathing as the Caesarean drugs took effect, Holly decided to go Cat hunting. He was fairly easy to find. He was a few decks down still cutting up his old suits that he'd worn once and were now out of fashion. "How come you can spend all day making clothes for the babies but not help out with the delivery?" The Cat jumped at the sound of her voice, then acted like he'd known she was there the whole time. Cats hate to lose face. "Babies are work; fashion is fun!"
"If they die you'll have no one to make clothes for." The Cat considered the possibility of a funeral range, but decided that that was too callous even for him. "They'll be fine. The monkeys know what they're doing." Holly had to think quickly. And Holly wasn't used to thinking at all. "It's a shame really," she said after a few moments. "Girls really like that sort of thing." His ears pricked up. "What sort of thing?"
"Doctors, guys with babies, heroes - you'd be all three in one." The Cat scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Being as hot as I am already isn't enough?!"
"Well, it'll get you a few girls. But this sort of thing would guarantee a personal harem of them."
"How would they know I really did this?"
"I'll tape it. Honestly." Holly waited as the Cat got to his feet and put away the clothes. "Well, if you're going to beg, then I guess I can fit you in between my naps-"
"NOW!" Holly snapped. The Cat flashed a dazzling smile her way. "Ok, you go ahead. Just let me get something first."

"Breathe, Listy... try to relax."
"YOU TRY TO RELAX WITH TWO BABIES TRYING TO SQUEEZE OUT OF YOUR BELLY BUTTON!!!" Lister yelled in agony and distress as the skutters placed up a green curtain ready for the Caesarean. Holly watched on and Rimmer felt utterly helpless. "AAOOOWWWOOO!!!" Rimmer turned to see the Cat twirl in wearing a full-length off-white doctor's coat with rhinestone surgical gloves and stethoscope. "You... Cat I could kiss you!" Rimmer gasped in admiration.
"Hey hey! Say stuff like that and you'll have two sick people in here." He gazed into the bottom part of the stethoscope which was actually a makeshift mirror. "How am I looking? I'm looking... great! George Clooney's got nothing on me." He danced over to Lister and peered into his now open stomach. Holly couldn't believe it - he'd actually made an outfit for the occasion. So he'd planned to help all along, the soft-hearted smeg. He exercised his fingers by wiggling them about and shaking his hands. "Gimme," he demanded and a skutter obliging moved aside as the Cat deftly and reluctantly put his hands in and grabbed the first baby he felt. The skutter clamped and cut the cord and the Cat put Jim into the incubator and wrapped a blanket around him. "Gimme," he said again and did the same with Bexley. With a wrinkled up nose, he peeled the gloves off and with a, "See you monkeys later," he disappeared. Lister wasn't sure what had just happened. One minute he was in utter agony and the next the Cat had waltzed in, taken his babies out and now the skutters were stitching him back up ready for the skin lasering. "Rimmer..."
"Right here," Rimmer answered from behind his head and made a few soothing, clucking sounds. Lister looked at his upside down face and grinned. "Does this mean I can have a vindaloo?" Rimmer rolled his eyes. "Well, you're nursing but I suppose it wouldn't kill them." Lister nodded and went to sleep. The Cat came back, in a new green suit with more frills than an Adam Ant convention, carrying more baby clothes. "This is where I truly excel," he said and began the process of assigning different outfits to each baby. Despite being in a sense 'clones,' the twins still looked different and therefore required different styles to suit them. Jim was thin and short like his mother and Bexley was slightly chubbier like Lister. Rimmer looked down at the babies and realised that he now had to deal with three Listers. Thank God they only had one guitar between them. Perhaps as their Uncle Rimmer he could introduce them to finer things such as Vivaldi and Napoleon. "Hey goalpost-head?" Rimmer sighed. Though if mummy and Uncle Cat had anything to say, they'd probably turn out to be slobs, who would wear only the finest Gucci underwear three weeks in a row. "Yo, dead guy!"
"What?"
"I'm not the biggest expert on babies - hell, we cats are usually gone 5 seconds after conception - but they look a bit big, don't you think?" The Cat was right. Jim was already bursting out of the newborn suit the Cat had put on him and their eyes were wide open and bright already. "That's not right," mumbled Rimmer and consulted the book. Dr Watson-Smyth agreed. "What's up?"
"Ah! Listy..." Rimmer jumped at his voice. Lister gazed over at his newborns and then heaving himself off the bed and walking slowly over. "Definitely worth it. Women aren't as nutty as you think. It hurts like smegging hell but... well just look at what you get!" he smiled and waved Bexley's hand about. Bexley chuckled and gripped Lister's finger. "Ow! Smeg, he's strong."
"He's also 2 weeks old."

Author notes;
Navel birth - anal births are so cliché and besides, I couldn't figure out how that could possibly work. And the belly button is such a useless thing anyway, I reckoned that it must have some function